for him, 2 years

In the morning, it's eggs in pans with cheese. A cup of coffee, messy hair and wrinkled clothes. Sunshine comes in through the holes in the blinds, kind of like the way you found your way into the holes of my heart. The holes I never wanted to fill. Unknowingly, I tried to fill them with words and language. But you, you, filled them with a soft red fluff. With love. Without success, I forced the fluff out. I stretched it and pulled at it, but it had melted into solid crystals, like cotton candy. Now with the pull, the love just stretched like sugared taffy. Giving me more love to give, everyone loves cotton candied souls.
At night, it's chicken wings in hot sauce with fries.  A bottle of domestic beer, hair loose from the early morning style and clothes heavy from long days. The moonlight whispers in my hollows, and longs for you. As the stars salt the sky I beg the night to bring you near. You are the one who lives lightyears away, the one I need most. He is my sun, my moon, and my eggs in pans with cheese. And I love him until the day the zombies attack, and even then, I will still love him.